


“Is This What True Love Feels Like?”

by Cheyenne246



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, F/M, Heavy Angst, Sad, Sad Ending, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheyenne246/pseuds/Cheyenne246
Summary: Before you could even fathom a response, before you could tell him he was utterly,entirely,wrong, he was gone. A turned back and a closed door had ended it all. Killed everything with a bullet you couldn’t touch. And that’s worse, isn’t it? To see the death, the destruction, and not be able to prevent it.Could I have prevented it?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel) & Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	“Is This What True Love Feels Like?”

**Author's Note:**

> Heavy angst (unresolved).  
> Italics are thoughts or emphasis.  
> I also realize that Loki may appear a little OOC, as he is normally very eloquent and well-spoken. However, his grammatical errors are intended to show his emotional struggle and the deep impact the events have on him.  
> I don’t own any of the characters.

Y/N’s POV: 

“I don’t love you.” 

The coldness in his voice startled you. He stood firm and tall in the center of the room. To you, he was stone, unmoving, unwavering in his statement. 

“You don’t mean that, Loki.” You truly believed he didn’t. You had seen the love in his eyes, felt the adoration in his touch. _There was no way he didn’t love me just as much as I loved him._ Nonetheless, your voice still wavered under his steely scrutiny. 

“Oh, but I do, pet. You are but a mere mortal, and I, a god. To me, you are nothing.” The words flowed from him so smoothly, almost making you believe him. But this was the God of Lies, and he could play anyone like a fiddle (but he had never played you). More importantly, though, you know Loki.

 _Something is bothering him. He is trying to push me away for a reason._ But you wouldn’t let him. 

“Just tell me what’s going on, baby. We can figure this out together.” You trembled, but tried to keep your voice firm. 

He stalked closer to you, all feline grace and beauty, making you want to reach out to touch him, hold him, anything. Finally, he stopped mere inches from you, towering above your form. It was moments like these that reminded you of his power, his strength. Usually, they were a comfort, but now they only served to intimidate you. 

“You pathetic being, how hard is it to understand that I could never hold devotion for such a simple creature. You are not fit for a god, darling,” he sneered. _Darling._ A name that typically caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. At this moment, though, they caused a wave of hurt. You desperately tried to maintain control over your emotions, and reminded yourself that this was not Loki, not _your_ Loki. It doesn’t matter what he says. He doesn’t mean it. _He just needs my help._

Steeling yourself, you forced your eyes to meet his. “Loki, lets just calm down and talk about what’s going on in that head of yours. I can help you if you’ll only just let me.” 

His sneer turned into a face full of hatred. “You stupid, weak human. Don’t you listen? There is nothing you could say to me that would make me want to be around you any longer!” he yelled. 

You flinched. In his outburst he had risen his hand to express his frustration, and while you knew that he would never hurt you, you couldn’t help your reaction. 

It was then that his face fell. The angered facade he had kept throughout the entire exchange gave way to hurt, fear, and loathing. It wasn’t until now that you realized the hatred you saw in his eyes wasn’t direct toward you, but himself. 

You immediately backtracked, beginning to panic that he would think you feared him, something you knew he, himself, feared. But it was too late. 

Too late. 

The tone he spoke in seemed calm and collected, but you could see the mirage of emotions flash across his face: anger, confusion, sadness, and self-contempt. “I knew you spoke only lies. Years of claiming you were _different,_ that you didn’t fear me as everyone else did. All _lies._ And to think, I, the God of Lies, himself, did not notice. Not at first anyway. But perhaps you have bested me at my own game, darling. Because _I,_ contrary to popular belief, never lied to _you.”_

His normally emerald green eyes had turned black, as black as the chasm that now separated you both. “I guess I truly am the monster everyone makes me out to be.” 

Before you could even fathom a response, before you could tell him that he was utterly, _entirely_ wrong, he was gone. _Gone._ In just a few short steps he had left your life. The months it took to even be able to greet him, let alone hold a conversation with him, were _gone._ The late nights sitting quietly reading together, were _gone._ The days spent introducing him to music, movies, anything and everything, were _gone._ A turned back and a closed door had ended it all. Killed everything with a bullet you couldn’t touch. And that’s worse, isn’t it? To see the death, the destruction, and not be able to prevent it? _Could I have prevented it?_

No more talks about the universe and life. No more coffee dates. No more evenings of playing with his silken hair. All erased from the world in a few steps. 

A few steps. _Steps._ So small, and yet, so impactful. But perhaps it makes sense. After all, steps lead you to wherever you’re going. And now it seems, they are to lead Loki away from you. 

You were never one to base your life off of love, truly. But your life had just walked out the door, and your world came crashing down with him, leaving you adrift, not truly knowing where you’ll land. 

_Is this what true love feels like?_

Loki’s POV: 

He so desperately wanted to believe you. To believe the false comforts that fell from your lips. 

But how could he? 

How could he when all he saw when he looked in the mirror was a grotesque figure, a being capable of death and destruction? (The blue skin of his natural form did nothing but fuel the fire of his self-loathing). 

How could he when everyone else looked upon him with eyes that spoke of their hatred? Of their _terror._

How could he when even you, someone who claimed to hold no fear of him, flinched at the raise of his hand? _But I would never strike you, didn’t you know that?_

How could he when Odin, the man he once knew as his father, believed him to be a monster? To be _lesser_ than the Æsir, than his _brother._

His brother. 

His brother who had gotten everything. The love, the fame, the _crown._ Loki was always lesser, always second place. Why did he even think he had a chance? Why would the throne, the adoration, be given to a monster? 

(Perhaps they were right. He would think himself lesser, too. After all, look at what he has _done_ ). 

How could he? 

You were too good for him. Too pure. His touch was a taint on your skin. A shapeless being that threatened to consume you. To pull you down to the depths of hell (where he _belonged_ ) with him. _Oh how I wished you belonged with me._

But no. 

Why couldn’t you just see? _Know what he knows?_

The universe would never give him you. Not after all the horrid acts he had committed. Not after all his treachery. 

The world wouldn’t give a monster an angel. 

So he had to push you away. _Had_ to end it before it was too late. _Before I could never manage to leave._

The God of Lies was done lying. In fact, he had told his last lie: _‘I don’t love you’_ (even though he had claimed to have never lied to you. That, however, was the only lie he had ever uttered to your beautiful face). Too long had he gone on with the charade. Too long had he looked the other way. He knew, no matter the feeble attempts of convincing himself otherwise, that he couldn’t continue with your relationship. It would only end in destruction. Because that’s what he did, _destroy._ He would destroy you, whether it be now, tomorrow, or forty years in the future. _Maybe it’s better for it to be now? To lessen the pain? Right?_ He would eventually demolish everything that made you beautiful in his eyes. He knew, for once, that he made no mistake in this. _Right?_

His hands trembled. (Just like they did when they hesitated on the knob of your front door). 

His past self would laugh at him, he knew. He had once wanted the throne, the _power,(_ so desperately. And now, he only wanted _you._ He would have done anything, then, to garner what he believed was rightfully his (not _Thor’s._ He could have, _would_ have, made a better king. But he wasn’t the favorite. Was _noone’s_ favorite. Hell, he wasn’t even Odin’s actual son. Wasn’t _Frigga’s_ actual son. _What would she think if she saw me now?_ ). But he met you, and his priorities changed. 

But his past self would still laugh at him. After all, a god was not meant to grovel at a human’s feet. _But I want to. Want to turn around and beg your forgiveness._

Alas, a few steps had taken him out of your life. A few steps had devastated any chance of happiness or healing he ever had. A few steps had allowed for your happiness in the future? 

A few steps saved the Beauty from the Beast. 

(You always did like that movie. Thought the Beast deserved a second chance. _Do I?_ ). 

No. 

Lightning struck overhead, and he gave a bitter laugh. Even now, Thor continued to overshadow him. 

But a monster deserved to be overshadowed. A monster deserved to be confined to the outskirts. (He used to thrive in the shadows before you showed up. You had taught him to flourish in the light). 

He had called you a liar. And you were. _Had_ to be. You could not help him, could not _change_ him. There was no possibility that you loved him as you claimed. He was not capable, nor ever would be, of receiving love. 

He continued walking because he knew if he stopped now he would turn around and find himself at your door. The door that had separated them both, left them adrift in a sea of confusion. 

So he would take those remaining steps away from you, away from your life. He would do anything as long as it ensured your happiness, your safety. 

If this was the only good thing he would ever do, then he could, _would,_ be happy with it. 

_Is this what true love feels like?_


End file.
